Got Your Heart Under My Thumb
by Xekstrin
Summary: Famous gamer Hana Song does a lot of charity work. Unfortunately for the head physician of this children's hospital, she mostly uses it as an excuse to pester her. [DVA/Mercy]


The day started with a series of headaches. An aspirin and a full breakfast took care of one. Angela had plans to monitor her water intake closely as well, to err on the side of caution. Right now she had nothing but work on her mind, and her body was just a tool to get the job done.

Until Hana grabbed her by the front of her crisp white lab coat and dragged her into the elevator, forcing her up against the wall. "You are such a piece of _shit_."

"Good morning, Hana," Angela said, prying Hana's hand off her with a smile. "Did you have a rough night? You look tired."

"Didn't sleep," Hana grumbled, rubbing at her eyes before continuing. "I can't fucking _believe_ you. I know you went home with that eye-tattoo girl last night. I had dibs!"

The elevator dinged as they rapidly approached the top floor. Angela desperately wished it would pause, that others would arrive and save her from this conversation. "That's inappropriate to discuss at work."

"I'm not your coworker. I'm a VIP and you'll treat me like one."

Angela's lips thinned in displeasure. "It's a hospital, Hana. Not a convention." She waved Hana's outburst aside, huffing loudly. "I'm not going to kowtow to you because you're a celebrity."

"Yeah, and I'm not going to pretend to be nice to you off-camera!" She prodded Angela's chest several times. "I had dibs, Angela. I had _dibs_. I invited you out, and you, you—"

"You wouldn't have fucked her anyway," Angela snapped, lowering her voice to a hiss. In shock, Hana took a hurried step back, eyeing Angela warily. "I wasn't going to pretend I didn't want something because you thought it would be fun to toy with her for a few hours. And if you tell _any_ of my patients—" It was her turn to get physical, shoving Hana another full step back. "What we were doing last night, I'll drag you out by the scruff of your neck and toss you onto the sidewalk. I don't give a damn how much money you bring in. You misbehave in my hospital, you put your hands on me again, you're out. Understand?"

A spark of challenge lit up in her eyes, one Angela wished she wasn't familiar with. They'd known each other for years— ever since Hana was a child herself. On and off they'd crossed paths, and now here they were again and Hana wanted...

What did she want? Angela couldn't tell. She came, she visited the kids too desperately sick to do anything. She lit up the halls with music and laughter. She streamed with them, too, and when she left, the hospital was always hit with a few million in donations. It wasn't just this hospital, she did this around the country— around the world.

Maybe she had a favorite doctor to terrorize in every city she visited. Maybe.

Hana relented.

"Fine. Okay. You're obviously still hungover and I shouldn't have ambushed you first thing in the morning."

Could it be? She'd tiptoed around this headstrong young celebrity for months now. But now that she pushed back, suddenly Angela was getting some respect.

Angela pressed the heel of her palm to her throbbing temple. "Yes."

The younger girl rubbed the back of her neck, looking sullen. Angela wondered why she even cared who she went home with— she was acting like a jilted lover. Not a stranger. Not someone who's life Angela had saved, many many years ago. Who ignored her for a decade and then returned like a hurricane, demanding Angela's constant attention for some unfathomable reason.

 _If she's trying to be my friend,_ Angela thought, smoldering with anger still, _she's doing a very poor job._

Pointing an accusatory finger at her, Hana stepped back as the elevator doors opened. "Then you owe me lunch later, so you can tell me all the details. No take backs!"

Hana vanished. Angela had her rounds to do.

The doctor sighed, wondering if it was too late to call in sick and go back home.

* * *

Hana came once or twice a year. In the summer, or the winter. Sometimes, Angela would boot up her computer and hover over an email, wondering if it should be sent. The only time she was able to write something coherent was when it was for someone else.

 _Hana Song,_

She erased it.

 _Dear Hana,_

Covering her face with one hand, she held down the delete key.

 _Miss Song— Ms. Song. Mrs. Song._

No, that was not right at all.

Fucking English.

She finally settled for something brief and to the point, like a report. But some of her emotions slipped past her, regardless of how hard she tried to mask them.

 _Hana,_

 _There's a kid here who really wants to see you. I feel like maybe you could get him to smile._

 _I know this might not be easy for you, and that you have a life outside this hospital. It's not easy for me, and I've done this for many, many years._

The hospital chapel knew her well at this point. So did the bar down the street.

Occasionally she went to visit Fareeha for drinks, but it never went as far as it did that first time. On some level she was relieved. She thought Fareeha might be, too. She thought maybe Fareeha needed a friend.

She had no idea how to end the email. Giving orders, she could do. Asking for favors from a girl who probably didn't even like her very much? Beyond her.

 _If you can't come I understand._

She signed off with her nickname, the ones the kids gave her. Hana called her that, too, once or twice. A long time ago.

 _Mercy._

No matter how much they insisted it was born out of affection, it always sounded like a cry for help.

Settling back in her office chair, Angela looked out the window. This high up, and she could see the city skyline as the sun dipped below the horizon. Purple and gold, edged with red and yellow like freshly sliced mangoes, dripping with syrup.

Sipping from a flash she kept in her desk drawer, Angela sighed to hear the ping of an incoming message. But when she saw who it was from, she did a double take.

 _Hey Dr. Ziegler,_

Hana wrote. Briefly, Angela wondered if she had also deliberated on how to open up to the body of her email.

 _Can't come right away but I'd be happy to show up and be charming for a bit as soon as I can_

 _I'm really happy to hear from you and hope you're doing well_

 _Does the kiddo have an online account anywhere? What's his real name, also, if that's okay for me to have? I'll add him to the Super Special Hana Song Gamer List_

Whatever that is.

 _I'll let you know when I can make it over there. Tell kiddo I am super excited to meet him 3_

 _Love, ._

Hana took a while to finally arrive, but not through any choice of her own. She had previous engagements. But she could play a few online games with any of the kids who wanted her gamertag, or have video chats with them. Apparently some of them were really good at that whatever-game she was famous for, Minestar or Warstrike or Hoverwatch.

 _Fucking hell, Angela. At least learn what game the girl plays, if you're going to beg her for favors._

Just because she found it trivial didn't mean it wasn't important. It was obviously important to Hana, and it was obviously important to her kids and a good chunk of people all over the world.

So when Hana did arrive, Angela debated sending someone to go pick her up. Or perhaps to call her a cab. Flowers? ...That would be stupid.

 _I'll just take the bus, dude,_ Hana texted her. She always was on her phone, so it was the easiest way to reach her. That's what Angela told herself. _You don't have to worry about me. I know my way around the city by now._

More than once, Hana said she missed her. It felt like she was telling the truth. When she came through her office door without knocking, she grabbed Angela and squeezed her tight in a hug.

"Doctor! It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Hana," she said, and surprisingly enough she meant it. "Nobody bothered you on your way here, did they?"

Hana blew out a raspberry. "I'm not A-list famous, babe. And I probably never will be until I get my face on the silver screen." Lowering her voice, she leaned in and added. "Which might be sooner than I anticipated. Just between you and me."

The idea of Hana branching out made her smile. She knew that the younger woman worked hard at her career, had been looking for such an opportunity for years now. "I can't wait. I'll tell everyone in my family I'm friends with a movie star."

Hana glowed with pride. At the smile on her face. At being called her friend.

She excitedly told the kids that Angela was the best surgeon in the world, and she should know. Hana was born with a congenital defect, a hole in her heart. She made some cheesy joke about needing it patched up.

A few days later, Angela drove her back to the airport. She carried her luggage, bright pink.

And later, she got another message.

 _I love you, Doctor 3 I'm happy you invited me._

Angela didn't know how to respond to that so she deleted it, pocketing her phone and looking up at the planes taking off. Wondering where they were going. Wondering which one Hana was on.

Then she messaged her back.

 _Are you going to make another joke about how I touched your heart?_

An instant response.

 _Yes. I'm gonna start signing off like this now 03_

 _I'm taking off soon, Angela. Send me more emails. Tell me happy things._

That was the last message she got for a while.

* * *

A month later she got another message from Hana.

 _YOU HAVEN'T SENT ME ANY HAPPY EMAILS, U FUCK_

Angela rolled her desk chair to the side, eyebrows quirking up. Hana had sent an attachment, a picture of herself flipping the bird with both hands. She must have enlisted a friend to help her take this one.

 _I have very few happy things to share._

 _Yeah, well, I have few fucks to give. What are you up to?_

 _Working, my dear. As I'm sure you're aware._

 _It's your day off._

She started wiggling a pen between two fingers, letting it rap out an irritated rhythm on her work desk. How on Earth did Hana know that?

 _So?_

 _So I'm in town again and I'm ravenous. Come get me._

The tempo increased until she suddenly came to a halt. Her pen rested point down on the desk.

Then Angela got up and headed downstairs, muttering in German the whole way there.

In the car, she greeted Hana with, "I have no idea why you're so rude to me."

Hana tossed her backpack into the footwell, and her suitcase into the backseat. "I'm only rude when you're insensitive."

"I'm perfectly polite. I have only ever _not_ been polite when _you've_ acted like _this_."

"Because you're as thick," Hana said, leaning over to roughly shove her forehead against Angela's. "As a fuckin' milkshake!" Then her face fell. "Wait, that sounded like a compliment."

"Don't worry." Angela flicked her fingers against Hana's nose to force her back with an angry little grumble. "It didn't."

"Well... good." She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, lowering the brim of her flat-billed cap. Stubbornly sulking there like a child— _infuriating—_ Angela knew it would take nothing more than a few words and she could snap her in half, it would be so easy to break her and _use_ her—

Angela gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles went pale. She started driving away without a destination in mind. "There's not many places open this late at night." She said, even-keeled again. In her mind's eye she imagined a dark pool of water. Perfectly still and black, in a forest at night. Nothing disturbed it, nothing rose up to the surface. Nothing long-toothed swam underneath.

Stripes of light washed over Hana from the street lamps overhead.

"So what were you going to do for grub?" Hana asked. Once Angela cooled off, Hana seemed to follow suit. That was bad. The type who fed off the energy around her like a vampire? Bad. It was probably what made her so charismatic, though. Angela could easily imagine her in front of a large crowd, a stable feedback loop of energy until the room could be set on fire with just a spark.

"I have food at home."

"All right then, doctor." She slid the seat back a little more to give herself leg room. Angela glanced down. High waisted shorts. Warm-weather clothing despite the temperature outside. Did Hana travel like this for comfort, or had she been in a rush? "Take me there."

Caught up in her own thoughts, it took her a moment to process that. "Don't you have a hotel?"

The lights kept striping by, reflecting in Hana's dark eyes like sparks of gold.

"Do you want to go to a hotel?"

That was what it took to finally make it all slide into place.

She always fell for these types. The hard, strong girls all prickly and dangerous. There was always something terrified inside, easily malleable. Tender and rich, like licking marrow off the length of a bone snapped in half.

But more than that...

Pulling up to her driveway, she unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over. Pulling Hana to her chest, she held her tight, stroking the top of her head.

"Tell me what happened," she said, squeezing her.

Taken aback, Hana tried to struggle away at first. Half-heartedly. There was a fire in her, eager to jump out and consume. Angela knew from experience she was probably just trying to burn away everything— the good and the bad— everything so long as the bad was gone and scoured clean.

"I don't—" Hana started, insulted. "Nothing happened."

"You flew to a strange city in the middle of the night without telling anyone, to try and fuck a woman you barely know. Tell me what's wrong, Hana. Let me help you."

This time Hana flinched. "I don't want your help!" She pushed Angela back, forcefully. The hands that had clutched at her now turned to fists, angry, seeking something to grab and break. "I don't need you to help me, Angela! I don't need you to fix— I don't need you to keep trying to be a martyr and making it all about what you can _fix—_ "

She wiped at her face roughly, head bowed.

"I didn't get the movie deal," she said at last, voice rough. "It went to some pretty blonde girl, because of course it did. There's always some pretty blonde girl trying to ruin my life."

"That's not what I'm trying to do, Hana." Wiping away her tears with a thumb, Angela held her again. "And I don't think you need fixing, either. So tell me what you need."

Shoulders shaking, she began to cry. Not a single tear fell that wasn't fought over tooth and nail, a frenzied battle against letting anything fall at all. "Please let me stay here," she said in breathless gasps. "Just for the night. Then tomorrow I can feel like an idiot. Because only an idiot cries over— only it isn't just because of that, there's so much— there's _so much_."

"Please," she said again, sobbing harder. "Please. Mercy."

Angela kissed her gently, first her cheeks and then her lips, startling her out of her hiccups.

"Come on then." Angela kissed her again, and this time Hana responded with overwhelming need, almost melting from it. "Let's get you inside. You'll feel better after having something to eat."

Laughing softly, to distract from how hard her chest was still hitching, Hana wiped at her face with both palms. "Do you promise?"

She kept a steadying hand on the side of Hana's neck. Then her thumb trailed down the column of her throat, pulling down the V of her neckline to find it. Old, old scars, long faded away. One long slash down the center of her chest.

"I do. Let's go."


End file.
